I'm Going To Go Back There Someday
by icecreamlova
Summary: The Circle, after Namorn, as seen through the lenses of a song from The Muppet Movie. Slightly Sandry/Briar.
1. Verse I: Tris

_a/n: Originally written for SMACKDOWN 2011, on Fief Goldenlake._

* * *

><p><strong>Someday<br>**_By icecreamlova_**  
><strong>Verse I: Tris

- : -

_This looks familiar/Vaguely familiar..._

- : -

She misses Summersea.

She misses her family.

But at the same time, Lightsbridge is... well... the library dwarfs even the duke's, even the small section of Berenene's that she's seen.

Rosethorn hated the place, but Tris's magic is tied to living things only through Briar, and the flicker of green beneath her eyelids when she thinks of him. The absence of the familiar doesn't itch at the back of her head, like it must have for Rosethorn; she cannot ever be fully separated from both earth and air, and Lightsbridge tries neither. She discovers this on her very first day of exploring.

She finds the wind on the roof. Breezes race along the lines of her braids, the sleeves and skirts Sandry made with such patience, and presented to her, with a sniffle, back in Summersea. Tris hates touching others, but Sandry had felt so sad that she let the future Duchess spring on her and give her a hug.

She searches a bit harder to find softly rumbling earth, in the basements - former prisons, actually - of Lightsbridge. The long line of stairs are irritating, but it's worth the effort. A line of cold iron bars line the corridors, and the metal ores, far, far beneath the basement, sing as they melt slowly into the mantle. She remembers Daja's gift: a charm to help disguise her abilities, her reserved, calm smile, in perfect counterpoint to Sandry.

No. Despite all she misses, despite all that isn't there, for Tris, Lightsbridge has its moments of nostalgic familiarity.

- : -

Almost unreal yet/It's too soon to feel yet...

- : -

When Tris was ten years old, she dared not imagine going to Lightsbridge. It hurt too much to know all the expectations she failed to fill, and she refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her tears.

It's difficult, despite her months of planning and preparation, to believe she now attends classes there.

The expectations of her two families, she finds, are shockingly different. She doesn't know for certain, of course, what her blood family would think, but she imagines they'd be pleased she attends Lightsbridge's hallowed halls. She wouldn't have hesitated to announce her decision to them.

But Sandry, Daja, Briar... they were shocked, when she told them, in Narmon. She now has enough distance to appreciate it's because they were outraged, on her behalf, for her need to work to be normal. They were outraged at the implication that she wasn't perfectly fine as the irritable, unjoking person she projected.

What feels most unreal to Tris (though Sandry just shakes her head in exasperation when she expresses this sentiment) is not just their sentiment, but that, despite it, they still help her prepare to blend in. She can't help the faintest, barely-there smile at her new clothes, her metal charm, or the _shakkan_ in the sunlit corner of her room.

- : -

"You should try and make friends."

It is, Tris thinks, far too easy for Sandry to say this; she would not be nearly as eager, if others responded to her like they do to Tris.

It's her first night at Lightsbridge. Tris is in her dormitory, legs crossed and attempting to meditate. The other girls are still at dinner, attempting to socialize; she has the room to herself. Everything would be so much more productive if her foster-siblings would stop squabbling. Finally, she snaps, "Why should I give them the chance to say no?"

There is abrupt silence on the other end of the connection. Sandry is shocked; Daja is reserved.

Finally, Briar says practically, _Why'd you change your name then?_

_Tris_, Daja says, _No one knows who you are._

(She did not expect Daja and Briar to interfere with her business, but apparently Sandry is very convincing.)

_Didn't you want to be normal?_ Sandry presses.

And she has the chance to now. Incredible to believe, but she'd almost forgotten to shrug off Trisana Chandler's personality.

But the truth is, though it's too soon to feel yet... she enjoys Lightsbridge's roofs and basements. Maybe she won't mind the people who populate it either - as long as it's not in too large a dose.

- : -

_Close to my soul/And yet so far away..._

- : -

Her first night at Lightsbridge, Tris dreams of Summersea, and the family she left there.

They're working. Sandry sits in the center of the dining room, a circle of red cotton thread enclosing her in a magical bubble at which Chime scratches ineffectually. Fabric forms beneath her fingers, and hints of gold and silver shimmer in the weave.

Briar has brought his plants there as well (though Tris is pleased to see that, per her snapped instructions, he's spread a cloth to keep falling dirt off the table) and is busy grooming his miniature trees.

They're speaking, smiling and bantering, and laughing as Daja's wry comments float into the room from the direction of the forge.

She cannot stop the wave of affection from rising at the sounds of their voices, the sight of their faces, because this is a dream. In dreams, you're allowed to show affection without embarrassment turning your cheeks red, and the unpleasant distance separating them is forgotten.

- : -

_This looks familiar_

_Vaguely familiar_

_Almost unreal yet_

_It's too soon to feel yet_

_Close to my soul_

_And yet so far away_

_I'm going to go back there someday_

- "_I'm Going to Go Back There Someday_" (Verse 1), The Muppet Movie

- : -

Everything changes when she wakes up.

The morning after her first night at Lightsbridge, and after a vivid dream about the family that's not there with her, she's ready to feel her distance from Summersea. She was too distracted before, but now...

From beneath the neckline of her nightgown, she fishes out the charm that Daja made for her. Well, she says Daja made it, but in truth, the entire thing was a collaborative effort from before leaving Summersea.

Now, she feels a pang, looking at the woven pouch that holds the small medallion, and the string that keeps it around her neck. Briar grew the flax for the pouch, the cotton for the necklace-string; they'd all gathered briefly to see Sandry finish weaving them into a pattern that would keep the magic of the charm from being detected.

Then Daja had brought out the medallion, living metal on copper, and one of the finest pieces Tris has ever seen. Tris and Daja had worked on that together.

Looking at the charm, Tris feels their support, but now she also feels, just as keenly, that the people who made it for her are so far away.

- : -

**Well?**


	2. Verse II: Sandry

**Someday  
><strong>_By icecreamlova_**  
><strong>Verse II: Sandry

- : -

_Sun rises, night falls..._

- : -

After Narmon, Sandry is kept busy by her work at the citadel.

She's always rushing and running, despite how little dignity it would seem to allow her. Well, whoever said that was not a thread mage who could straighten her looks just before entering a room. She can't linger when there are so many parts of Emelan to attend to.

Sometimes, she's got so much work, the sun rises and night falls many times before she gets to speak to Briar and Daja out loud, and Tris, who is at Lightsbridge, in her head.

Despite the concern she senses, Sandry can't slow down. Not when Vedris's grasping son waits in the background for her to slip in front of her aristocracy. She works and plans and helps, and this time, it's her who draws away.

And despite her siblings' concern, so the days pass.

- : -

_Sometimes the sky calls..._

- : -

She's got a stack of reports to finish reading in the hour before afternoon tea.

She can do it. She'll do it. Best of all, she will SHOW everyone who matters that she can do it.

It's just difficult, when the sky is so wide and blue, and the clouds are barely visible. She wants to mingle in the crowds, outside.

'_Honestly_...'

It's Tris, loud and clear and disapproving in her head, despite the thousands of miles from Summersea to Lightsbridge. Sandry sits up, though Tris won't know unless she tells her foster-siblings.

"I have to..."

"Not right now," Daja tells her from the door, Briar just a step behind her. (Who let them in without telling her?)

She can almost feel Tris scowling.

"It's too fine a day to be cooped up with reports," Briar informs her seriously.

Together, they cross the room, grab her arms, and frog-march her out. Sandry protests, but privately, she sees the bright blue skies, and hides a secret pleasure at the excuse to leave. Maybe it's what they were aiming for.

- : -

_Is that a song there/And do I belong there?_

- : -

Sometimes, Sandry is so overwhelmed by her work that she forgets to rest. That's when Daja and Briar (and Tris, despite being a mere presence in their minds) take action.

"You haven't talked to us in weeks," Briar informs her, while they walk the streets.

Sandry runs her hand down her long braid, which she's left down - she did not expect to get pulled away from her reports - and hastily makes way for a donkey-cart barreling past her.

Daja flashes a grin. "You've been cooped up so long, you forgot the streets."

Tris, all the way at Lightsbridge, merely sends an image of a ten-year-old girl scooping mud out of the gutter, followed by one of Sandry pausing beside a group of musicians to listen. Do you even know where they are, now?

Irritated, Sandry marches ahead, and the grin exchanged by Daja and Briar only angers her more. The music drifting through the bustling crowds does little to calm her.

"All right," Sandry says, spinning around, and wondering why on EARTH she tried to hard to be their friend, all those years ago. They're so irritating, and she wants to argue and pretend she doesn't enjoy it.

"C'mon, Duchess," Briar says. "Don't pretend you don't want to dance." He holds out a hand.

Sandry can't help but smile at the poetry that.

- : -

It's sunset, and she's done no work since that afternoon, when Briar and Daja, with Tris's approval, dragged her out onto the streets. Sandry has, in the hours that have passed, browsed various venders, danced to musicians, and kept well away from anything to do with paper, reports, or the status of Emelan.

But when Sandry looks up, and sees the sun radiating orange from beyond the clouds, she's struck by sudden urgency. She spins around, nudging Briar and Daja in her head - and feels Briar's arm being slung around her shoulder. As casual as it is, she's reminded of dancing with him earlier that day, and can't help but lean into it.

Daja approaches from one of the food kiosks, holding her purchase of chunks of grilled lamb strung on sticks. The vender advertises it as a 'kebab'. "I know you missed your afternoon tea on our behalf," Daja murmurs, holding it out to her.

'_One day away from work won't make the world collapse_,' Tris reminds her, through their mental link.

"Besides," Briar adds, nudging her and inducing an unwilling smile, "we've barely seen you. You should - whatsit that you tell your uncle? - delegate. You belong to us as much as to Emelan."

Sandry takes the offered kebab.

- : -

_I've never been there/But I know the way._

- : -

Sun rises, night falls

Sometimes the sky calls

Is that a song there

And do I belong there?

I've never been there

But I know the way

I'm going to go back there someday

- "_I'm Going to Go Back There Someday_" (Verse 2), The Muppet Movie

- : -

Sandry returns to the Citadel in a far better mood than she left it.

She shouldn't be so carefree. She's left so much work in order to have fun with Daja and Briar - never mind that they, at Tris's urging, practically dragged her out because she's been so distant, so busy lately.

Nevertheless, she's giggling when she arrives back at the Citadel, arm in arm with Daja and Briar, her bodyguards shadowing the three a short distance behind. Tris has already gone to bed, citing a headache, but left a warning before leaving: just like she hounded their steps back in Discipline to be friendly, they won't leave her alone and trapped in the Citadel.

"Don't worry," Sandry says, smiling as Briar swings her into a spin - something they tried, while dancing, earlier that day. "I know my way from here. Less work, more play."

Daja smiles serenely at her. "If you do forget, we'll just have to drag you outside again to remind you."

- : -

- : -

**Well?**


	3. Verse III: Briar

**Someday  
><strong>_By icecreamlova_**  
><strong>Verse III: Briar

- : -

_Come and go with me/It's more fun to share..._

- : -

"C'mon, Duchess," Briar says. "Don't pretend you don't want to dance." He holds out a hand.

Sandry still looks irritated - understandable, if silly, because although they dragged her out, she was practically shouting, mentally, that she wanted to escape her day's reports. And she was the one (albeit at Tris's urging) that led him, and Daja, down Summersea's streets to where the musicians strike a catchy melody.

He catches her hand in his, and spins her around, determined to make her enjoy at least one day away from work. Sandry's surprise comes across loud and clear, but she's far more skilled at dancing than he is, and she quickly regains her balance.

Her eyes narrowing in challenge, Sandry practically drags him into the center of where a small crowd has gathered. Daja's laughter floats across the crowd, accompanied by the mental amusement from Tris, as Sandry starts moving quickly and efficiently.

But Briar's had some practice too, and matches her step for step, until they're both breathless and laughing, and he's more than a little glad that he's dragged her to come with him.

- : -

_We won't become queasy/At home in midair..._

- : -

The nightmares, to tell the truth, come and go even now that he's visited a mind-healer.

At times like these, Briar understands Tris's urge to get as much wind as possible, even though cold bites at his body. He cannot stand staying in his bedroom, where the air is still and stagnant, and he's broken out in cold sweat - even the frigid wind on the roof is preferable.

As he ascends the stairs, he carefully checks his bonds with his sisters. Tris sleeps; Daja's unresponsive; he lingers briefly until he discerns that Sandry's also slumbering. He thanks the Green Man that he did not spill his nightmares of blood and death into their dreams.

The open air outside is the perfect counter to the dark dampness of his cell in the east, but he doesn't want to merely be able to avoid his memories; he wants to forget them entirely.

And if that's not possible, then he wants to drown them with better memories. Fortunately, he has a wide choice: the green of his miniature trees under his hands, watching storms with Tris, bantering with Daja, dancing with Sandry until they're breathless and laughing and have forgotten they're still holding onto one another...

The queasiness of his stomach eases.

- : -

_We're flying, not walking..._

- : -

Ever since Narmon, Sandry's been busy at the Citadel, but she doesn't forget her promise to take time away from paperwork.

He and Daja get a mental announcement from her, and, a short time later, she's bouncing into the house.

She takes up room he didn't see, fills an absence that he didn't notice until she turned up again. The empty space that is Tris's is not filled up by her, but it's softer, then.

Daja feels it too. She pops out of her forge to chatter, and continues their conversation by raising her voice, when she's gone back to do her work in the forge. Briar, on the other hand, brings his shakkans into the dining room to work on them. (He's careful to throw a cloth across the table to keep it clean; Tris would electrocute him if he didn't.)

Sandry waits until he's settled down before she draws a circle around them with red thread, and brings out her own work. The half-formed cloth shimmers with silver and gold within its weave; she continues to work on it.

Briar watches her hands weave this different sort of magic, watches the nimble fingers bend and flex and twine thread so systematically, laughing and bantering every-so-often. He has his own work, but he can't quite keep from paying detailed attention, and remembers dancing with her, those fast hands clasped around his, because that's the way the dance was supposed to go.

Tris mutters something, in the back of his head, about seeing the future - she's at Lightsbridge, and engrossed with her work. Sandry looks at that, and grins at him. Her smile's always lit up the room, but this time, she feels the same as, but somehow different from, the girl he grew up around.

He grins back.

- : -

_With featherless wings..._

- : -

_'Fly with me_,' Tris offers him, and Sandry, and Daja.

"Show-off," he teases. "Did Lightsbridge teach you more pretty tricks?"

_'I'll suspend you in the Endless_,' she threatens, and he admits defeat.

Their minds link. It's extraordinary, the distances they can stretch now; Tris is at Lightsbridge, while the other three live in Summersea, but slipping into each others' minds takes little effort.

The connection is strong enough that they can leave their bodies behind and follow Tris to the rooftops of Lightsbridge. It's strong enough that Briar can feel the cold, although, in Tris's body, it does not bother him. It's strong enough that, with a jerk, Tris takes hold of Sandry, Daja, and himself, and they're floating in midair.

She's a bright, blazing presence; all three of them are. Briar supposes he probably is as well, but before he figures out a way to check, she's already directing them into the air.

Lightsbridge, and Karang, look like toys below, though Lightsbridge blazes with hundreds of magic-lights. All around, Briar senses weather forming and shifting, feels the singing of metals (from Daja) and touches the magic in everything - Sandry's domain. In turn, Briar shows the girls the life blazing in every leaf, every twig, every timber of every house.

High above the earth, storms drift together and apart.

Though he's stiff from his long-held pose upon returning to his body, Briar knows he'd do it again and again.

- : -

_We can hold onto love..._

- : -

_He's exhausted._

_He's been running for days on barely a handful of hours of restless sleep, and his feet have been bleeding for the past few minutes. He thinks. He's so weary he only registers the pain when he steps into a clear pool of water, and then he yells. It's a pretty pathetic yell - he'd love to say he's too careful about being caught, but really, it's because his throat hurts when he attempts to make a sound._

_If Rosethorn were there, she'd spin around and, wordlessly, force him onto the ground. Evvy would sink down beside him, holding Ludo in her arms. He wouldn't protest, though he'd barely be able to keep back another yell of pain when Rosethorn washes his wound - efficiently rather than gently - and applies the remainder of their salve there. She'd bandage it herself, with a strip of cloth torn off their small bundle of essentials, because one of his arms is splinted so can barely move._

_But they're not here, and he's gotta rescue them. He doesn't bother bandaging his wound; they'll need the salves in his pack._

_Briar takes out the container of seeds of attacking vines that he's found, impromptu, in the past few days of following the guards, and leaves the rest of his belongings just outside the make-shift prison he's tracked them to. They'll find it, he's certain. Rosethorn will sense their magical power, and they'll find the resources to keep moving. (Green Man give him patience; he thought HE was the one who was stupid and reckless and had spent far too much time around Tris and Sandry-)_

_The number of guards is astounding for two mere nuisances - their jailor must suspect a rescue attempt from him. And maybe they've planned accordingly. But the truth is, no one, not even their teachers, know what he and his foster siblings are able to do._

_More to the point, Briar will do anything to get Evvy and Rosethorn out, and their allies are dead; it's just him, now, and the day's march to the capital of the mad emperor._

_He throws the seeds in a shower, counting on the breezes he learnt to read from Tris._

_Then he feeds them his life._

_The guards look up at the shower of seeds, but they're not fast enough. Guards scream as lichens and vines spring to life in the ground around the brick perimeter. Milkthistle and briars, rosehips he was given back in the emperor's palace - he doesn't discriminate about which one to use, or who to catch, though when the mages attempt set fire to the seeds and to the plants, they go first. He takes special care to destroy the guards' supplies, the ingredients to the potions used to keep Rosethorn and Evvy docile._

_One of the three mages is bright enough to search for him - to send a streak of fire at him. Briar, reasoning he would need all his magic for the offensive, hadn't put up a barrier. It plows into him, sudden shock nearly making him let go of his creatures, but they're angry now, sensing his overwhelming pain, and accelerate themselves, yank away his magic in their eagerness to reach every one of the squirming humans._

_Screams abruptly choke off, one by one. Briar pushes and pushes until he's barely awake, until he's lying on the ground and unsure how he got there, and it still isn't enough. One guard escapes - just one - and one's all that's required to slash his way through his wavering plants and stand above him._

_Briar is exhausted._

_Mud is caked on his cheek, where he lies pressed to the ground, and he's cold and should be shivering, but it just seems too difficult. Rosethorn and Evvy will escape; the guard cannot keep two powerful mages under control by himself, when their powers are now unbound. Briar's seen the depths of the emperor's prison, one he barely escaped from several days ago, and he's just too tired to run from it again. (He's the prize; he's the one who defied the emperor.) He should sleep, and wants to just close his eyes and let the guard's sword rise and slash down-_

_("I'll see you in two summers," Sandry grins, Daja and Tris nodding in the background.")_

_-except he's sure he can hear three girls shouting and screaming in his head. Of course, he knows he's hearing no such thing; they're too far away. But when he closes his eyes, when he tries to let go, they are deafening and all of a sudden, all he can think of are Tris's dreamy face watching clouds forming; the medallion around his neck, and how he's learning, by harnessing Daja's magic, to remember its presence; the tattoos on his arms, and how Sandry chased him around the garden when she discovered he'd nicked her best needles._

_With the last drop of his magic from who-knows-where, he finds dormant ivy beneath the earth._

_The guard goes down with a shout, deceptively thin ivy vines and leaves wrapping his arms around his body, dragging him onto the ground. His escape attempts continue, but Briar's unconscious now, and can't hear anything, except his return to Summersea, someday, in his dreams, and Sandry latching onto his arm and dragging him to find his other foster-siblings._

- : -

_Like invisible strings..._

- : -

Come and go with me

It's more fun to share

We won't become queasy

At home in midair

We're flying, not walking

With featherless wings

We can hold onto love

Like invisible strings

- "_I'm Going to Go Back There Someday_" (Verse 3), The Muppet Movie

- : -

The truth is, they can never truly be apart.

Thoughts intertwined, minds linked, pain and dreams shared between four people... it's not something that they can just walk away from.

Even all the way in Lightsbridge, Tris can sense Sandry's wakefulness as she goes through report after report - taking on Vedris's bad habits. Sandry, on her part, listens to Briar and Daja murmuring, and feels Tris as she drifts asleep herself.

Sandry's awake, though. Daja senses this, when she wakes briefly not long after falling asleep, and urges Sandry to go to bed; Sandry insists on just a little longer.

Daja leaves her with a warning that Sandry plans to listen to - she really does - but she's still awake when Briar gasps awake, fear and adrenaline rushing through his system. In the brief moment he's unshielded, she gets a glimpse of one of his moments in Yanjing, when he nearly died to free Evvy and Rosethorn; when he nearly gave up and let a guard kill him because he was too-

The door slams shut.

She senses Briar gearing up to yell at her, but, to her surprise, he just shakes himself. He tells her he'll go back to sleep if she will.

Sandry ponders briefly, deciding not to mention that she had been about to do just that. Then she blows out the lamp, and shuts her study's door behind her on the way out.

- : -

**Well?**


	4. Verse IV: Daja

**Someday  
><strong>_By icecreamlova_**  
><strong>Verse IV: Daja

- : -

_There's not a word yet/For old friends who've just met..._

- : -

(Namorn)

_It is painfully awkward when all four are in the same room._

_Daja hates the proud tilt of Sandry's chin, because her foster-sister's never felt the need to use pride to hide her pain before._

_She can't help but feel a pang when Briar almost but doesn't actually jump, as Chime soars onto his shoulder - even if the only thing that changes about him is a sudden wildness in his eyes._

_She can only sigh as Tris grumpily takes a seat in the corner, nose buried so far in a book it may honestly never leave again - done for the sole reason of avoiding the other three._

_Daja's had years of learning from her Trader relatives how to charm, but she cannot properly think of a word to describe the four of them._

_So she says nothing, and joins them, in avoiding each others' eyes._

- : -

_Part heaven, part space/Or have I found my place?_

- : -

She's still got an altar in the corner of her room.

The problem is, she prays at it less than she ought to. She's the last, so it falls to her to remember, every night, the family she has lost.

Once, she had knelt there every night, but now her mind wanders to other things. Not inconsequential things, but thoughts that the word 'family' invariably brings up. And Daja still wonders what her parents, siblings, uncles, cousins, aunts... what they think, now that her family is of _lugsha_-craftsmen.

Because despite the dishonor, she would not give Sandry, Tris or Briar up for the world.

So, just as she chooses to believe her family have been granted space in one of the more comfortable afterlives by Bookkeeper Oti, she likes to think they're simply glad she's found happiness again.

- : -

Their dynamics shift once again, on the day Daja and Briar drag Sandry away from her paperwork.

They decide, with Tris's input, that the noble has been working too hard, and unceremoniously force her to walk the streets with them. (Sandry, Daja notes, does not protest too hard.)

They laugh their way down the street, listen as Tris mentally goads Sandry into leading them to a group of musicians. Daja's leaning on her staff, caught up with amusement, until Briar turns.

"C'mon, Duchess," Briar says. "Don't pretend you don't want to dance." He holds out a hand.

Sandry stares intently at him, eyes narrowed, leaning forward until she and Briar are nose to nose and she's glaring. Finally, she doesn't so much slip her hand into his, as grab it and drag him onto the small, cleared space-and they dance.

Daja hears someone yell with laughter; neither Briar nor Sandry turn to listen. They're too busy dancing. hands bound clutching each other, feet flicking in and out and perfectly matching.

Discomforted, Daja turns away. She searches the streets for food while she thinks.

They're like siblings to her. Both of them. But... maybe not to each other, even if neither realizes it.

And even if they do realize it... does it matter? They're her family, and her house is theirs. They barely blinked when they found about Rizu.

No, she decides. It doesn't matter; how she feels about them, and they about her, does not change.

Daja decides to get them kebabs.

- : -

_You can just visit/But I plan to stay..._

- : -

Around the time Tris visits home, during her break before her final year at Lightsbridge, Daja meets Kerie.

They argue, which is astonishing, because Daja hates letting her tongue run ahead - she'll leave that to Sandry and Tris, maybe Briar when he's nervous. Kerie claims that her earring is finely made; she catches Daja's faint, incredulous smile while almost all others would miss it, and flares up at the implication that the earring is rubbish.

Kerie returns the next day with an apology and a quiet request, as one of Daja's customers, to evaluate her earrings, please.

After that, they fall into something of a pattern. Kerie stops by to sample Daja's wares, and proves herself surprisingly adept at the more practical tools - her hands are calloused from what Briar, stopping by, mentally informs her is work on a farm.

Sandry visits next, and it is, in fact, while she's at the counter and Daja is out back, that Kerie comes. Daja sees, through Sandry's eyes, Kerie stuttering and embarrassed, and thinks that Sandry's eyes have grown disused to the dim lighting, because she sees Kerie differently than Daja does.

"She's my foster sister," Daja clarifies when she approaches, and senses amusement from both Sandry and Briar as Kerie turns red.

She does, thankfully, get it before Tris does, because Daja can stand Tris's rare instances of smugness, but that does not mean she likes it.

"Don't worry," Daja tells Kerie evenly. "I won't be going anywhere, with anyone."

Kerie smile spreads slowly, but it lights up the room. She's not what Briar would consider beautiful, but Daja likes it all the same.

- : -

_I'm going to go back there someday..._

- : -

There's not a word yet

For old friends who've just met

Part heaven, part space

Or have I found my place?

You can just visit

But I plan to stay

I'm going to go back there someday

I'm going to go back there someday

- "_I'm Going to Go Back There Someday_" (Verse 4), The Muppet Movie

- : -

His name is Mekeil, he is her friend, and he's more interested than her other friends about her visit to Summersea. No one else, at least, asks as much about what she did during her break before returning to Lightsbridge.

"You seem," he says, hesitating and running his hand nervously through his shaggy hair, "calmer."

"It's my last year," Tris points out.

He scowls faintly. "Is Lightsbridge this bad?"

"I think the real question," Tris corrects dryly, "is if Summersea's this wonderful, and the answer is yes."

It is something she has anticipated for years: to go back to Summersea someday.

He slouches next to her on the way to class, but anyone paying attention would notice that his books match hers in number, and that his notebooks are filled with neat handwriting. Tris wouldn't blame anyone for NOT noticing. She didn't, until working with him in a major Applied Taxonomy project, towards the middle of her first semester.

"Enlighten me on its wonders," he presses.

Tris frowns at him - he's only this pretentious when some sort of trouble bubbles in the back of his mind.

"First and foremost," Tris says flatly, "my family lives there. And I'm happy, with them."

Happy, even when she sees first-hand Sandry being forced to act cordial to the duke's son, though Sandry's the one who does all the work. Happy, even when Briar unwittingly sends her images of homeless children visiting Urda's House. Happy, even when she waits by Daja's door, waiting for the other girl to finish saying her prayers for her blood family. It is that moment that fuels the slowly growing notion that maybe, one day, she should visit Capchen. Just once, because goodbyes can be such important, necessary things.

Mekeil nods slowly. "I did say you looked calmer."

"Although..." Tris hesitates. She remembers the sensation of honey sticking to her skin. However, she also harbors the memory of Daja attempting to explain the sensation of hammering gold to the lady friend she picked up - some girl called Kerie. "I thought you'd travel once you were certified."

Mekeil drops into one of the benches with the grace of a stone. "I'm starting to think I will, as well."

Tris thinks of a few weeks ago, and waking up to 'hear' Briar and Sandry speaking mentally in the depths of the night. They must have felt the hesitation she feels now, the fear of changing a friendship strong enough that destroying it would feel like the earth moving off center. They were still speaking. "You should visit Winding Circle some time."

He regards her thoughtfully, and says, intently, "I'd been planning on that anyway."

Tris smiles reluctantly. "Then I might see you there, someday."

It is yet another someday she looks forward to, and Tris wonders when all her 'somedays' changed from something she dreaded, to something she cannot wait for.

- : -

_End of Someday_

**Well?**


End file.
